Water under the bridge
by smokinmilkmaid
Summary: Summary: Veronica ponders about her life. On the faithful bridge. SpoilersWarning: Up to 2.10 One Angry Veronica.


**Ficlet: Water under the bridge (Veronica, with mentions of Meg, Duncan, Logan)**

**Title:** Water under the bridge  
**Author:** smokinmilkmaid (Mandy)  
**Pairing/Character:** Veronica (and her thoughts)  
**Wordcount:** 707  
**Summary:** Veronica compares her life with water. On the faithful bridge. VMVO all the way!  
**Spoilers/Warning:** Up to 2.10 One Angry Veronica.  
**Diclaimer:** Don't own Veronica or any other VM-characters. Sadly. But if you want to sue me, please do. I would love to come to the US to defend myself. On the set. During filming VM. Yup.  
**A/N:** This was my first fanficlet ever. In Dutch. I'm sorry, you're not suddenly very good in this foreign language. I translated it. With a little help from my betafriends. Thanks so much suika713 and jadenrilei!

She watched the turbulent water. The darkness beneath the waves. She thought it was interesting. She walked the bridge, didn't even look at the path. Fascinated, she stared down the rail. Lately, she dreamed of being surrounded by tornado's, again. Phenomenon's of nature.

Compared to tornado's, water was a little phenomenon, but that didn't make it less interesting. It swallowed whole families, gave love to couples frolicking in the breakers, gave fun to surfers.

It was intriguing. It could be turbulent, spiraling. It could lap and be cute. It could be completely without any wrinkling. Deceitfully wrinkle free. Which made her think of anti-wrinkle cream.

When she got bigger the monsters under her bed had morphed into dreams. Just like the saying 'slaying your inner demons'. Usually, when asleep, she was working. Hard. She had to slay those demons. Like she was a sleeping Buffy. A stormfighter instead of a vampirefighter. Would it be just as stupid as trying to beat the mill?

She told herself she gained control over her life. Last year was a different era, it was behind her. Water under the bridge.

Her dreams told her something different.

Beneath her, the water swirled vigorously. It turned round and round like a whirlwind. She imagined how she would fall over the railing because of inattentiveness, falling in the turning stream. Would she bump her head on the rocks? She immediately banished the thought.

Concentrate! She needed to concentrate. No time to dissect her dreams. Don't give weird fears a chance to surface. At least not in the daytime.

She thought about the day that came and went. One of the reasons she was there trying to clear her head.

Meg was dead. She woke up, then went anyway. Life was a turbulent journey. Okay, that was corny. But true. Meg apparently was the eye of the storm. She broke the delicate silence the moment she had woken up. The tornado came and swallowed her. Dragged her up to the hereafter.

A baby for Duncan. Anger. Logan. Feelings don't exist. She only wanted to use her mind. For her, reality didn't exist either. It was to hard to grasp. Fuzzy thoughts shot through her brain.

Her head was way too full. That would explain the dreamtornado's. And sometimes she would have watched Twister before bed.

The middle of the bridge. Here it was. It happened at this point. Logan balanced on the rail, his mother jumped over it.

The darkness of the wild water down there was attracting her. Like the edge of the platform when a train speeds by. She took a step back and turned on her heels.

She had to go tell. Tell him. That, despite everything, she loved him. That she understood: all water, wild or calm, could be deceiving. Could be different at first sight. Her motions accelerated.

She kept watching the water. She touched the railing while she walked. The water calmed down, thankfully. Less excitement, less restlessness. Her gaze didn't wander to the water anymore. She forced herself to keep looking though.

How long had she been walking here? How long had she stood still, staring? The now glassy water was making her uneasy; more so than the wild waves had done, weirdly enough. What was happening beneath the surface?

She had to go back. Ask him. Beg. Throw her pride off the bridge for this.

She looked up. Her car was waiting. Patiently, without questions. Just like Duncan. No interrogation, only support. A hug, a kiss and all was forgotten.

She got in, turned the key and drove away.

Her decision was made. The moment of truth. She had chosen. But would he still want her?

He was sitting by the pool. Oh, irony: more water. For a nanosecond, he cocked an eyebrow at her. But soon his expression was blank again. She looked at the ground. Shuffled her foot. Looked at the blue poolwater. All of the sudden it struck her. See-through. Transparent.

That's what she had to be. There was a tornado in her stomach. But the time was now. She couldn't just stand there, pondering metaphors.

He was looking at her expectantly, obviously brooding upon something. She gathered courage and started talking: "Logan…"


End file.
